


Raise the Banners

by Galindrael



Series: A Very Dragon Age Christmas [22]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: DECFANFIC, Day Twenty Two, Established Relationship, F/M, Ugly Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3256673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galindrael/pseuds/Galindrael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A familiar face turns up in Skyhold. A questionable delivery is in the War Room. Mia's scheming...again. And now there's THAT?! Maker help Cullen and Scáthach, they're going to need it. </p><p>For the #DecFanFic challenge</p><p>There are currently 22 parts to this series, the link, for some reason is broken- sorry for the issue, I'm trying to fix it (as of 1 February 2015)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raise the Banners

Cullen had started his day bright and early, reports coming in to his office with a predictable ebb and flow.  It had been a little under a week since he’s been married to Scáthach; marital bliss marred by the threat of Corypheus and his mages. Cullen picked up the most recent report, _Rather, one specific mage: Calpernia._ Thanks to Leliana’s spies they confirmed a transaction for a hit to take out Scáthach and now he knew that he could no longer agree to spare her life…but Scáthach was of a different mind. She did not seem at all surprised when Leliana brought that to attention in the War Room. _Maker help me, she didn’t even blink._ A knock on the door made Cullen sit up straight automatically, “Come in”.

“Commander Cullen,” one of the new messengers peaked her head in, “I have some reports for you sir…and a letter from your wife”.

Cullen’s heart swelled when he heard Scáthach being referred to as his wife, “Yes, come in, hand me the letter from Scáthach first,” he held out his hand and waited but the woman just stared back, “The one from my wife,” embarrassment filled the messenger’s face as she handed Cullen the envelope. Cullen sat it aside and then made room for the new pile in the corner of his desk.

“Is that all?” He looked to the messenger who was patiently waiting by the edge of his desk.

“Yes, Sir, unless you have messages to send out,” she looked hopeful, and slightly rocked on her feet.

 _Probably her first day and her feet are tired,_ “No, I have nothing for you at present,” her eyes darted to the pile of letters clearly meant to be sent out, “ Everything I do have I can just take with me to the War Room,” he smiled.

“Yes, Sir,” she saluted him awkwardly.

“You should take a break, Josephine ordered some sweet cakes, ones that I don’t particularly enjoy, so go fetch one for yourself and if anyone asks, it’s for me. Now go on,” she livened up.

“Yes, Sir, thank you Sir,” she took off and closed the door behind her, the gust of cold wind made a few papers rustle but nothing too bad about it besides it’s bite. _Maker it’s freezing again._

Cullen pulled his furs closer and reached for the envelope.

_To: Ser Cullen Rutherford  
From: Lady Scáthach Trevelyan-Rutherford_

He smiled and flipped the envelope around, carefully slipping his finger underneath the lip and opened it, startled when a ring fell out onto his lap. _Is this…_ He held it closer and inspected the ring; a gold ring with a single ruby laid flatly in medal encased by a rather intricate knot pattern but what caught his attention was the engraving of C.S.R. on the inside of the band. _How much did this one thing cost-no, never mind, I don’t want to know._ He sat it down on his desk and pulled the letter out.

_Dear Husband,_

_I know you’re busy and would probably wag your finger at me if I walked to your office just to deliver your ring to you…which you’re probably now wondering what you were thinking when you told me to just ‘Get something you like’. Well, I hope this isn’t too extravagant for my lion. Nonetheless, the jeweler came in right after you went back to your office after lunch, so, lucky you gets a letter from me. I had it imbued with a protection spell for you, to keep you safe. So please, do us all a favor and take off that iron ring you found in your desk as a place-holder and put this on. Maybe drive all the ladies wild and even keep those gloves off for the night, hmm? Either way, I’ll see you tonight. I miss you already._

_Love,  
Your Wife,_

_Lady Scáthach Trevelyan-Rutherford  
Inquisitor_

Cullen chuckled as he slipped off his gloves then the iron ring and placed it back in the one unorganized drawer in his desk and tentatively placed the new ring on his finger.  _That’s…different._ Cullen felt the spell in the ring surge and then cease as it accommodated to its wearer’s body. As Cullen folded the letter back up another knock on his door rang loud.

“Yes?” Cullen reached to tidy up his desk.

“Commander, Lady Cassandra sent for you and the Inquisitor. To meet in the War Room,” the errand boy was breathing heavy.

Cullen stood, “Is something the matter,” he leaned on his desk, hands trying to keep the papers from shifting.

The errand boy was startled by Cullen’s glove-less hands, “Uh, no, Ser. Lady Cassandra just has something for you and the Inquisitor,” he finally looked away from Cullen’s hands.

“Yes, I’ll be there momentarily,” Cullen subconsciously squeezed his fists as soon as he stood straight.

“Of course, Sir,” he nodded and took off to make his next errand.

 

As soon as the door was shut Cullen reached for his leather gloves, stopping just short and really looked at his hands. _Scarred. Burnt. Damaged._   Cullen sighed and placed his gloves in the back pocket of his trousers and  began piling up the papers into proper piles before leaving. _Drive the ladies wild and keep the gloves off_. Cullen’s jaw clenched as he separated finished reports and unfinished reports but no matter how hard he tried he could not shake the memories.

 _Rage demon coming towards me, heat radiating off of it, my sword burning through my gloves._ _Flesh burning. White hot pain. An entranced Templar swinging their sword wildly at me, my sword-hand already damaged. He nicked my knuckles, hitting bone and made me nearly drop my weapon._

Cullen stopped sorting. _I know she meant well,_ Cullen looked to his disfigured hands, _but that doesn’t make it any easier._   He sighed and clenched his fist, light reflecting off the ruby. _She just wanted them to see the ring, I’m sure. To let everyone know I’m hers as she is mine._ Cullen smiled. _For her I’ll endure without them,_ He opened the door from his office and was met with a crisp gust of wind, making him shut it immediately. _Maybe after I get to the keep’s hold._ He slipped his gloves on and headed towards the War Room.

 

As Cullen entered the keep’s main hall he heard arguing.

“I promise you, I was told to come here if I needed a job!” a familiar voice rang out.

“I am sorry,” Josephine replied tersely, “But I cannot just let any Orlesian see the Inquisitor and I _certainly_ cannot believe everyone when they said the Inquisitor promised them a,” Josephine saw Cullen approaching, “Commander, do you know this young man,” she gestured to the young mage in front of him.

Cullen was shocked to see a familiar face, “Etienne?”

“You do know him?” Josephine looked confused.

“See? I told you,” Etienne replied enthusiastically.

“Yes, he,” Cullen paused, “He’s the mage who saved my life. The one who stopped the deathroot poison in Val Royeaux,” he shot a quick grateful glance to Etienne then an apologetic one to Josephine.

“I see. Shall I make accommodations for the young man in Skyhold? Or do you think the Inquisitor will wish to see him now?” Josephine readied her quill and Etienne waited patiently for the response, both on edge.

“Set him up in the library,” _near the Spymaster_ , “ I believe the Inquisitor is done with meetings for the day,” _let me ask her myself,_ “ please see that he is well treated,” Cullen smiled to Etienne, _you saved my life but I still can’t outright trust you just yet,_ “I apologize but I actually have a meeting to make myself, if you’ll excuse me,” Cullen nodded to Etienne, “Ser Etienne,” he nodded to Josephine, “Lady Ambassador,” and with one quick bow he made off to the War Room.

 

As he was about to open the door to the War Room a high-pitched scream came from the other side. Cullen practically leaped and unsheathed his sword as he opened the door quickly, “What’s going,” he noticed Cassandra, Scáthach and Mia sitting by the fireplace with startled expressions, “on?” Cullen lowered his sword.

His sister was holding a…garment in her hand looking as enthused as ever while Scáthach was trying her best not to let her snickering get too loud while Cassandra looked mortified.

Cullen sheathed his sword back and walked to the War Table and picked up a stray…sweater? He unfolded it and looked at it: It was horrendous. The material was soft but the thing on it was more frightening than anything. _No. Please, no._

 

“ Oh, no they already sent for you,” Cassandra groaned, “I am sorry, Commander. These are…not what I had in mind to say the least,” She dropped the one she was holding onto the top of the War Table.

“What _did_ you have in mind,” Cullen walked to station himself on Scáthach’s left.

“I don’t care, they’re so,” Mia hugged the one in her hand to herself, “awful. I _love_ them”.

Cullen sighed, “You bought us all,” he eyed the garment in Scáthach’s hand, “…sweaters?”

“I did but, apparently, I misjudged who I purchased them from. I am sorry to waste all of your time,” she paused and sneered at the crate before her, “ I think I’ll burn them”.

“What,” Mia stood up clutching the one in her hand to her chest, “You can’t they’re wonderful”.

“They’re hideous,” Cassandra retorted.

“I know that’s what makes them wonderful,” she gasped, “are you going to hand out the rest?!”

Cassandra sighed, “I had not intended to do so but I think you wish so of me, yes?”  she raised an eyebrow.

“ _Please_ ,” Mia begged.

“ _Mia_ ,” Cullen warned and Scáthach squeezed his arm slightly.

“It is fine, Commander,” Cassandra waved him off.

“You _can_ tell them it’s just a gag gift,” Scáthach interjected, “whether or not they actually like them will not matter as that next storm front rolls in”.

Cullen was shocked when he added on to her comment,  “Yes, I hear it’s going to be awful,” he stammered as his sister shot him an amused look “I think the harsh cold will make them appreciative is all”.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt” Cassandra picked one out of the crate and tossed it to Cullen, “That one seems appropriate for our dear Commander,” and Cassandra began to rummage through the crate.

Cullen held it up and it was a red sweater with an awful depiction of a lion in yellow thread. _It looks bloody well knackered_.  Behind him snickering caused him to turn, “What is so amusing dear wife?”

“It looks awful, I can’t imagine you in th-,” she was interrupted when Cassandra playfully had tossed one at her, causing Cullen to snicker when it landed atop her head. She yanked it off to find a similar one in her size, “Oh”.

“Well if I have to wear it, so do you,” Cullen snickered until Cassandra came over with a big smile on her face.

“Oh, no, what,” Scáthach panicked.

“For the little lion to come,” she handed Scáthach a very small replica of the ones they were given.

“Well, now we have to wear them,” Cullen joked.

 

Cassandra sighed, “Do I really want to deal with the teasing this is going to give me?” She was inspecting a sweater with a rather creepy depiction of a griffin.

“You don’t have to let them know it’s from _you_ ,” Mia offered.

“Go on,” Cassandra lowered the sweater to look at Cullen’s younger sister. _Ever the scheme-er._  

\--

The next morning Cullen was happy to see his _wife_ had actually managed to sleep all through the night. Her bare back was exposed and it was cool to the touch. Cullen adjusted his body to wrap around hers, and he moved her hair away from her neck so he could bury his face in the crook of her neck. When he went to kiss her, his breath ghosting against the exposed flesh made her shiver and he smiled at her involuntary reaction to his proximity. Cullen planted quick kisses at the base of her neck until she woke.

“I see you actually slept, finally,” Cullen smiled as she stretched her arms out.

“It was lovely,” Scáthach pulled herself to Cullen and placed her head on his shoulder after planting a quick kiss on his cheek, “You didn’t, though, did you?” She looked up to him, reading his expression.

Cullen wanted to look away but he knew that it would only worry her more if he lied and snapped later on in the day. “I barely slept, again,” he laid his head back down on the pillow, “the nightmares are getting more frequent, it seems,” he sighed loudly, “I don’t want you to worry, though”.

“I’ll worry either way,” she rolled onto her stomach to face Cullen and caressed his face.

 

“I know,” he leaned his head into her hand, “Mostly it’s just the normal…things”.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I’m alright. If they get worse, I’ll tell you,” Scáthach arched an eyebrow, “I _promise_ , wife”.

Scáthach smiled when he referred to her as ‘wife’.  When he reached up to cup her face she took his hand in hers.

 

"How do you like your ring, we never spoke of it yesterday," she twisted it on his finger slightly.

"It's uhm," she rubbed her thumb against a burn scar on his hand, "It's nice". Pain shot through his hand when she got to the periphery of the scar.

"Nice?" she looked to him unaware of what exactly she was doing.

"Sorry, the," he paused, "uhm, the scar it's-" she let go immediately.

"I'm sorry, I didn't," Cullen cut her off.

"No, it's fine, it's fine. I promise, my hands are just...not my favourite part of myself". Cullen said as he balled his fists; shame rolling out with the admittance of his insecurity.

"Because the scars?" 

"Because of what I've done with them," he stared at the back of his hands, "Because I know what I'm capable of and the scars just remind me".

"They remind me of what you've done too," Scáthach said as she tentatively reached for a hand, Cullen placing one in hers slowly.

"They do?" His brows pinched together.

"You have saved many lives with these. You've saved my life with them. You've given me comfort and pleasure with them as well. I know that does not make it easier for you, love...but I hope you also spare a thought to the good things they've done next time".

 _I didn't want to ruin her morning with such heavy talk..._ Cullen put on a smile for her, "They can also do this," he reached up and tickled her halfheartedly and pulled her to his chest when she folded in towards him as she tried to block his access to anyplace that was vaguely ticklish. He managed to sneak a few kisses in before she pulled away.  _Much better._

 

“Well, _husband_ ,” she kissed his forehead and then sat up on her knees, “we should probably get up and get the day over with,” she playfully smacked his side.

“I don’t think so,” Cullen sat up quickly, “You want  me to get up after you just _assaulted_ me? My dear wife you must be mad,” he smiled and pulled her to him.

“I am mad,” she giggled, “I married you, didn’t I?” She joked and he pretended to be offended.

“I demand recompense for your slights against me,” Cullen said sternly.

“I think a kiss would suffice, don’t you?” Scáthach leaned in slightly and Cullen caught her shoulders.

“I think I’ll demand two,” he shot a glance to her lips, “Maybe three, since I do  _actually_ like the ring".

She smiled as he leaned to her to claim his prize.

\---

 

 When they finally made their way down for breakfast, gossip was already flying around Skyhold about who had delivered such awful sweaters to everyone’s doors in the middle of the night; Cassandra, Mia, Cullen and Scáthach all pretending they had no idea and that they were equally confused.  The hall was loud with conversation but the mood was generally lighthearted and everyone seemed content to be distracted with the ugly sweaters; some proudly wearing theirs and some, mostly Dorian, loudly complaining about them.  _Look at this awful color! Ugh, even the stitching is making me ill, take this away!_ Of course The Iron Bull was so amused at the awful dragon, he squeezed into his and was trying to make the dragon “dance” by squeezing his pecs. A roar of laughter and a wave of smiles upon the faces of the residents of Skyhold brightened up the mood even further.

Until the horns loudly announced ‘ _returning troops’._

Cullen looked to Scáthach who was looking at him equally confused. The Inquisitor, Commander, Seeker, Spymaster and Ambassador all immediately took off towards the battlements.

 

“What troops are returning so early Commander?” Leliana asked fervently.

“None should be returning this soon,” he opened the door for the ladies and let them pass before returning to Scáthach’s side.

“That’s what worries me,” Scáthach replied tensely.

“Yes, why would our men signal returning troops already? _Are_ they our troops, truly?” Josephine was flipping through her reports looking for any hints to the matter.

Cullen was in Commander mode; scanning, analyzing and maneuvering as much information to be as effective as possible with the strategy as time permitted. He would not let the Inquisition appear unready for the potential threat.

“You,” Cullen shouted as he pointed to a recruit who, unluckily, was taking their lunch on the stairs.

“Yes, Ser,” he stood quickly, almost dropping his food.

“Go have the gates closed and have the alarm sounded,” Cullen demanded but the recruit seemed to have frozen at the direct order, “NOW!”

Another guard, thankfully it was his veteran Rylen who had heard the Commander’s voice had just made it up the stairs. Cullen spoke softly but sternly to impress the urgency of the matter “Prepare the soldiers for a potential attack. Do _not_ let them know it’s anything other than a surprise drill until I give the order. There’s no need for panic just yet”.

“Ser!” Rylen took off and rallied the recruits awake.

 

Once they reached the horn-blower, Cullen immediately looked through the telescope the watchman was using. It was a clear movement of bodies coming towards Skyhold; not big in number, by any means but his blanching face had Scáthach worried.

“What is it,” Scáthach placed a hand on his arm and he audibly swallowed, “Rather who is it? What banner?”

“I think you should look for yourself, Inquisitor,” _Inquisitor? Falling back to formalities now?_  Scáthach looked to him then headed to adjust the telescope.

“Commander?” Cassandra asked but all Cullen did was shake his head.

When Scáthach finally adjusted she saw exactly why the watchman thought it was returning troops she barked out an order Cullen wasn’t sure he heard. _No, that can’t be right…_

“Raise our banners, high!  Let them know that any trouble cause at Skyhold will be taken _very_ seriously”. Scáthach sneered as she watched the people continue their way up the path.

They were flying Trevelyan flags. Her parents were at Skyhold.

**Author's Note:**

> I am SO SO SO SO SO sorry about the delay. Uni's kicking my butt! I just had an exam this week and now I've got another next week AND the following week. That's what I get for taking an accelerated program that's science intensive. I promise I will finish this, and there will be supplemental bits for after Day 31...it just might take me a bit. I'll binge write when I get a day off <3


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